Smash Your Headlights
by LittleMiss543
Summary: Just a little songfic that I've been thinking of writing for a while; Ziva thinks about the 'what ifs' between her and Tony. Rated T just to be safe


**Just a random song-fic that wouldn't leave my head until I wrote it! The song is Psycho Bitch by Lesley Roy which is one of my fave songs at the moment and is constantly played on repeat (: **

**NCIS song-fic – Tiva- Smash Your Headlights **

_Is it fair to say you played me for a fool?__  
__Is it fair to say you used me?__  
__That's the truth,__  
__You've been lyin' all this time and now im mad,__  
__You drove me to the vodka shots im knockin' back,_

"Phil!" she yelled, calling over the bartender once again. "Another shot, _please_," she slurred. She didn't know how long she had been in the bar but judging by the number of glasses which had started to stack up in front of her, probably creating quite a high bill as well, it had been a while. However, she wasn't preparing to leave her seat any time soon.

Phil came over at the call of him name, drying a glass with a ragged towel as he walked. She slouched slightly over the bar, yawning into the back of her hand; today had been a busy day at work but eventually they had caught another killer. He set the cup he had previously been drying down in front of her, throwing the towel over his shoulder while he reached for the vodka bottle he had conveniently placed nearby.

"No why is a pretty young lady like you sat all alone?" Ziva rolled her eyes, not even looking up to get a look at who had tried to begin a conversation with her. She pulled her phone out of the pocket of the jacket she was wearing and checked to make sure she hadn't missed any calls. Just as she thought, she hadn't. She had received no messages. The young brown haired man moved to the opposite side of the bar as he took her silence as a warning to leave her alone.

"Your last drink, Miss David," warned the bartender as he filled up the glass. "Then we're getting you a taxi home," he added with a smirk on his face as he watched her smile disappear. She opened her mouth to argue back but he stopped her before she could form any words. "No arguments, already called for a cab." Ziva shut her mouth, choosing to smile at the kind man instead. At least she knew someone was looking out for her right now. 

_I bet you never thought that I would be a basket case I'm,__  
__Goin' crazy cause you're hooked on someone,__  
__And that someone isn't me,_

"Just drop me off at the end of this street please," she instructed her words still slightly slurred. She leant back in the seat closing her eyes briefly, already feeling the on-comings of a hangover – she was going to regret it in the morning.

"Phil told me to drop you off at home, you know how he gets," he reminded. The taxi driver, Pete, was one used regularly by Phil when he sent people home from the bar – he was one of the only taxi drivers he trusted in the city. So far, Pete had drove Ziva home four times since she had started going to Phil's bar.

"Then it can be out secret," she whispered, wanting to keep the volume down low. "A... _friend_ lives in one of the apartments," she admitted. Pete smiled, nodding his head in a silent agreement to do as she wished. She was able to rest in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as he drove down the quiet street until he reached her new destination, the stopping of the car caused her to open her eyes and reach for her purse. She shifted to sit on the edge of the seat and focussed all of her concentration onto trying to undo the zip of her bag until a hand rested on the top of her own.

"Fares covered for my dear, Phil made sure it was," he assured as her hands stilled, instead reaching for the door handle.

"Thank you," she murmured as she carefully climbed out of the taxi, trying her best not to fall out.

She waited until she couldn't see the taxi any longer before starting her slow walk down the walkway. Unbeknownst to her, Pete had just parked around the corner, just like Phil had asked, to make sure that she made it safely inside. She looked down at the familiar pavement as she walked along, the same one she had walked down many times in the past – the one she had memorised. She was deep in thought as she stumbled over what was probably nothing, or her own feet. She swiftly glanced around to see if anyone had seen her fall, making sure no one had seen her. No one she knew at least. Right now, she wasn't acting like herself. But right now, she didn't care. She was past caring.

_I bet you never thought that I would be a psycho bitch,__  
__Like the kind of girl that's gonna smash your headlights,__  
__No that someone isn't me_

She stood and looked up at the apartment she had spend many nights inside; watching movies, eating take out, or just talking – about the case or in general. She had been inside so many times she couldn't count any more, but not once, since she had come back from Somalia, had he been over to hers. She told herself, and him, that it was because he was the one with the big TV and all the movies; but that was the reason she hid behind, in reality she didn't know the real reason herself. She felt more at home when she was at his – hers just seemed like a house.

A part of her wanted to go and knock on his door, to enter the main door and walk the stairs up to the second floor. She wanted to confess everything to him, to talk to him, to watch a movie, to just sit with him. That's what the girl inside of her wanted. But the other half, the 'ninja' half – the part who still believed what her father had drilled into her all these years, what Mossad had drilled into her, argued against it. That part didn't want to – she couldn't seem weak in front of him, she didn't want to spill all of her emotions to him. Emotions were for the weak, that's what she had been taught.

Her head fell into her hands as the two sides of her fought against each other. And to top things off, the effects of the alcohol she had previously consumed were starting to take effect in the form of a headache. She was going to regret _that_ in the morning.

She felt her knees getting weaker and weaker, unable to support her weight much longer. Right now she wished she had just asked Pete to take her straight home so that she could be curled up in bed with a warm hot water bottle and a hangover remedy nearby. But no, she had had to get him to drop her off here; the place where she could only think 'what if' and not actually _do_ anything about it. Doing something about it would be being someone she just wasn't was.

She leant onto the hood of his car to support herself momentarily while the white fuzzy lights faded from her eyesight. Thankfully, it didn't take long before she could push herself off of the front of the car and allow herself to walk the rest of the way home; the effects of alcohol slowing wearing off. It would probably lead to a killer hangover in the morning but she only cared about getting home at that moment. She felt her hand slip as she pushed herself up from the good of the car. Just her look. There was nothing she could do to prevent it. Even a ninja's reactions were slowed when vodka shots were added to the equation. In a matter of seconds her fist smashed through the right headlight of his car, instantly setting off the blaring alarm.

The ear-splitting cry of the alarm managed to alert her enough so that she was able to stumble to her feet and get out of sight before anybody saw her. Before Tony saw her.

_Is it fair to say your window hit a rock?__  
__Do you think that I should sell you to the cops?__  
__When they ask me where I was the seventeenth, __  
__Should I be like you and say that wasn't me?_

"You're late again Tony," McGee pointed out as Tony walked into the bullpen the next morning, throwing his bag down next to his desk before slamming down in his chair. His head hit his hands for a brief moment before he looked up again and began typing away on his computer.

"You're a genius McGoo," he snapped back sarcastically. McGee held his hands up in a mock surrender, noting to himself that Tony was in a bad mood and not to annoy him too much for the rest of the day. "Some idiot smashed the headlight on my car last night, I had to call a cab to pick me up this morning," he added before anyone of them asked for an explanation or came up with one themselves; he wasn't in the mood this morning. Especially not after the conversation he'd just had with the garage owner.

"That bad huh?" McGee asked unsurely. He wasn't even sure why he continued with the conversation, he knew he was going to get snapped at again by Tony even if it wasn't his fault, but he carried on anyway. Trying to be the friendly co-worker he was.

"Yeah, garage says it's gonna take a few days to fix. Somethin' about importing the right headlight to make it look right or somethin', I mean it's just a stupid headlight! That should be easy to fix right? But no, they're gonna have to call someone about it and import some _special_ headlight thing, I can't even remember what he said. I just know I haven't got a car for three days because some ignorant b... _person_ smashed my headlight! Don't even get me started on what it's gonna cost!"

"Then don't DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he strode into the bullpen, a fresh coffee cup in his hand.

"Yes Boss, getting on with paperwork now, Boss."

Ziva smiled to herself at his annoyance not wanting to draw too much attention to her way by saying something. On the other hand, she was annoyed with _herself_ at his misfortune; she had never meant to do anything, she hadn't meant to upset him or make him angry. She looked down at her now bandaged hand, thank god Pete had parked just around the corner; he had seen her slip. He had driven her to the nearest hospital, free of charge, so that she could get it looked at and then drove her straight home so that both he and Phil knew she was safe and sound in her own home. 

_I bet you never thought that I would be a basket case I'm,__  
__Goin' crazy cause you're hooked on someone,__  
__And that someone isn't me,__  
__I bet you never thought that I would be a psycho bitch,__  
__Like the kind of girl that's gonna smash your headlights,__  
__No that someone isn't me_

Fortunately for her, the day had just consisted of paperwork which allowed her to keep both the slight pain in her hand and the dull ache in her head to a minimum. By noon, she had completed three reports all printed and up to Gibbs' standards and was nearly finished with a fourth. McGee had just gone out to pick up lunch for everyone moments ago. She was stood in front of the sink in the women's bathroom washing her hands, well hand, when she heard the lock to the door click. She looked up, catching Tony's eyes in the mirror and holding his gaze as he walked forwards.

"What you done to your hand?" he asked casually as he handed her a paper towel for her to dry her hand with.

"Nothing," she lied, as she screwed it up and threw it directly into the bin by the door using her good hand. However, Tony saw straight through her lie and raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to tell him the truth. "It was nothing... nothing important. It doesn't matter," she admitted, nervously. Once again, the two sides of Ziva fought against each other; one side yelled at her to tell him that it was her that shattered his headlight while the other half screamed at her to keep it to herself so she didn't have to deal with the consequences. Or the questions.

"You sure Zi? You've been distracted all day, I'm here if you want to talk," he asked, giving her his famous DiNozzo smile. 

_Does she go where I don't?__  
__Is she beautiful or,__  
__Will she go where I won't go?_

'Of course you're not okay! Tell him that!' Her brain yelled at her. Emotions and feelings and all that other stuff were for the weak, that's what she had been brought up knowing. That's what she had been told all of her life. That couldn't change in an instant; it couldn't change for one man. It shouldn't. She should keep them all bottled up, keep them to herself, where no one else knew about them, where she could keep the safely a secret from the rest of the world. But right now, that bottle wanted to burst. Like a champagne bottle, it wanted to just burst open so that everything would just spill out all at once, so that everyone would know her hidden secrets and feelings. So that _he _would know. She laughed at herself, shaking her head, completely forgetting that Tony was still stood in front of her. That would never happen, she wasn't someone who could just give everything about herself away, not so freely. Not to someone she loved, not even to her own family.

He deserved someone who he could get to know, someone who wasn't 'damaged goods'.

"Zi, You okay?" Tony asked again, bringing her out of her trance and back to reality.

"Fine," she lied, smiling up at him hoping he would believe her lie the second time around. 

_I bet you never thought that I would be a basket case I'm,__  
__Goin' crazy cause you're hooked on someone,__  
__And that someone isn't me,__  
__But you never thought that I would be a psycho bitch,__  
__Like the kind of girl that's gonna smash your headlights,__  
__No that someone isn't me_

They stayed staring at each other for what seemed like minutes but was actually only a few seconds. Both of them were searching the other's eyes for a hint at the truth; a hint at what the other was thinking. Ziva broke it off first, unable to look into the eyes she had already memorised much longer. The worry of what _he_ might find in _hers_ greater than the want to hold his gaze any longer. She looked down at the ground wishing a gaping hole would appear and swallow her whole. Still looking towards the floor, she moved around him and walked in the direction of the bathroom door pausing momentarily to unlock the door and take one last glance at him over her shoulder before making her way back to the bullpen.

McGee had already arrived back with the food, a bag containing what she ordered waiting for her on her desk. She slowly wandered back to her desk eying her food as hunger struck and also noticing that Gibbs had left once again.

"Thank you McGee," she said with a smile. "Where'd Gibbs go?" she added as she sat down in her chair and opened the bag in front of her.

"MTAC with Vance, he's only been up there a couple of minutes. What happened to your hand?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing, just cut it on a smashed glass last night," she lied, making a note to herself so that she wouldn't tell everybody a different story, so that there would be less chance they found out she was lying to them. For now at least. 

_I bet you never thought that I would be a basket case I'm,__  
__Goin' crazy cause you're hooked on someone,__  
__And that someone isn't me,__  
__But you never thought that I would be a psycho bitch,__  
__Like the kind of girl that's gonna smash your headlights_

Tony had entered the bullpen again only a few minutes after Ziva and started eating straight away, not giving anyone a chance to talk to him or ask him where he had been. Luckily, Gibbs had still been in MTAC so he only had one other person to worry about being questioned by. After seeing the look on his face, McGee knew he definitely needed to stay away from Tony; for his own safety.

The next few hours carried on just like the first half of the day; each team member got on with their own stack of paperwork, wanting to get it down as quickly as possible so that they could go home sooner rather than later. After a while though, each one of them slowly started to drift off, not knowing what they were typing as they stared blankly at their computer screens. Including Ziva. After another hour went by, the words on her screen began to turn into one big blur. She needed to get up and move about, even if it was just to get coffee or go to the bathroom, she couldn't concentrate on what she was writing. It was all blurring into one.

However, she refused to let herself 'drift off' into her thoughts. She'd already thought about things too much, over-analysing everything did and everything he had done in the past, thinking about the 'what if's' of an alternative universe.

_No that someone isn't me_

"Dead marine," Gibbs barked as he strolled into the bullpen, a fresh coffee cup in his hand. He collected his badge and gun as he swiftly walked through making his way to the elevator while the rest of his team rushed around to gather their things so they could keep up with him.

She promptly opened her desk draw to pull out her own badge and gun, holstering them in the right places. As she grabbed her backpack from beside her desk, she looked up towards where Tony was, a smile emerging on her face just like always. 'If only he knew' she thought to herself, 'but then I wouldn't be acting like myself' she contradicted.

'That someone wouldn't be me.'

**Please review and let me know what you thought (: ~Littlemiss (: x **


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